


One Hazy Day

by RamsettParkSwings



Series: Ben and Leslie being there for each other [2]
Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24569479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamsettParkSwings/pseuds/RamsettParkSwings
Summary: Two weeks after an emotional conversation with Leslie about his actual well-being, Ben has a difficult day. He knows what he needs to do to fight the temptation to curl up in bed, but it's much easier said than done. Luckily, he has Leslie by his side to not only get through the day with him, but also to give him much needed guidance and perspective. And hugs.Sequel to "What Am I Supposed To Do Now?" but can be read on its own. Features the song The Lucky One by Simon Steadman and Charlton Pettus.
Relationships: Leslie Knope/Ben Wyatt
Series: Ben and Leslie being there for each other [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935697
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	One Hazy Day

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I based this largely on my own experiences, and this is not in any way an attempt to diagnose or identify any mental illnesses. I tagged this story References to Depression and not Depression because while depression IS referenced and the possibility of it is discussed, I am not diagnosing Ben with a depressive disorder in this story.

No more than ten seconds after waking up, Ben knew that today was one of those hazy days. He’d had enough of them by now to recognize one quickly. He mentally scanned himself: impossibly heavy head, exhaustion after a full night’s sleep, and a general unease. Leslie knew about them as of their talk on the couch two weeks ago, but he hadn’t had one in that time span. He glanced up at her sitting in bed next to him.

  
How did I play these off before? He asked himself. No, you have to talk to her. You have to open up. That’s the plan.

  
It was, in fact, the very first step in Leslie’s emotional support plan for Ben. Finding a therapist to check in with at least every once in a while was a work-in-progress, but he knew he couldn’t expect improvement if he didn’t commit to being honest with Leslie.

  
“Are you awake, babe? I wanna have breakfast at JJ’s today.” Leslie’s voice stirred him. Luckily, it was Saturday and work wasn’t an issue.

  
“Hrmph,” he replied. _No, tell her._

  
“What’s that?”

  
Ben inhaled deeply. “I don’t think I can just right now, honey. I’m not feeling well.”

  
“Are you sick? Do you have a stomachache?”

  
“No, it’s just a… bowling ball head day,” he managed to chuckle.

  
“Oh? Oh.” Leslie paused. She’d never seen him experience one first hand. Like he’d told her briefly after their talk, he pretty much hid those from everyone. Of course she’d spent hours thinking of what she could do for him if he had one, but now that he’d actually admitted to having one right then and there, she felt woefully unprepared. 

“Is there anything you need? Anything I could do? I could make you waffles. Then we could watch Star Wars, or Star Trek, or Fringe.” She felt herself babbling, but she didn’t want to stop. The right answer had to be in there somewhere. “Or we could watch Masterchef. Ooh, I could make you some calzones-”

  
“Leslie,” Ben said softly. “I don’t need anything. Calzones sound wonderful, but I don’t really need those things. What I need,” he sat up, “is to force myself to start the day.”

  
“Wait wait. Shouldn’t you take it easy? We’ve talked about this, sweetheart. If you had a cold, or the stomach flu, you’d rest.”

  
He smiled as he sat up.. He really did hit the lottery with such a thoughtful wife. “I completely agree with that. Except, ” He took her hand in his. “It’s kinda different for this. What I’ve learned from having days like this before is that the absolute best thing I can do for myself is to force myself to do something. To fight this.”

  
Leslie stopped to consider this. “Okay,” she said with hesitation.

  
“When I’m physically ill, my body has to rest but my immune system has to fight. In this case, I have to actively fight this feeling.”

  
“Alright,” she nodded. “Okay, you know what’s best for your own mind. So tell me, what does fighting look like?”

  
“Well, the first thing would be taking a shower.”

  
“Can I propose something to the agenda before the first thing? It’s for you but kinda for me too.”

  
“Of course babe, what is it?”

  
“Can we just cuddle for a few minutes? Maybe put on some music?”

Leslie followed his path as he slunk back down into the mattress. After fiddling with her phone for a few seconds, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, embracing him in what she hoped was loving, supportive hug. 

  
_Just like a hole you cannot mend_  
_Just like a story without end_  
_I’m neither here_  
_I’m neither there_  
_Got stuck and now I’m lost_

“I’m glad you’re not wearing your Letters to Cleo shirt,” Leslie says when he steps out of the bedroom dressed in a plain blue shirt and black sweatpants.

  
“Well that’s for a different kind of…” he trailed off.

  
Leslie looked at him with such tenderness that he felt himself soften.

  
“You can say it, honey,” she urged. Their eyes lingered on each other until Ben turned abruptly.

  
“Okay, next thing I should probably do is-”

  
“Ben.” She wasn’t backing down on this.

  
“I don’t think I’m there yet,” he said quietly.

  
“I’m not asking you to read the DSM-V, but maybe you shouldn’t dance around the word.”

  
“I’m not! I just don’t want to mislabel these things,” he said, mostly to convince her, and partly to convince himself.

  
“Okay, okay,” she replied. “Well what’s next then?”

  
“Drinking water. And…” he paused. “Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh? I would never laugh at anything, ever, in my life.”

“Uh huh,” he laughed. “It’s yoga.”

  
“Yog-” she bit back a giggle, and tried to play it off by clearing her throat. “Yoga, yoga, of course, yoga, one of the great- yoga? Really? I’ve never seen you do it before.”

  
“I’d do it before you woke up. Just a few simple stretches. Don’t tell Chris one of his suggestions actually worked. It’s mostly the deep breathing and meditation that does it for me. It helps me feel like 60% percent lighter.”

  
“Well if it gets you to talk about percentages,” she said in a low voice. “I mean, yes, yoga! Okay, how do we start?”

  
“You want to do it with me? You hate exercise. You once had me tell Chris and Ann you were getting a root canal to get out of an early morning couples jogging date.”

  
“Jogging, Ben! How could I not try to get out of that!”

  
“Of course.”

  
“But seriously, I want to be part of anything that helps you.”

  
It was true. Leslie would endure a marathon around an Eagleton library if it meant helping Ben feel better. Though if that made Ben feel better, she may have to reconsider their entire marriage in the first place. 

  
“Okay,” he smiled at her. “Yoga, then I’ll be good to go on waffles.”

  
When Ben said he had to fight against the impossible feeling, he really meant it. Though the yoga and waffles and calzones and couple skating (and cuddling with Leslie) certainly gave him a much needed boost, he could feel his mind trying to suck him away from the beautiful Sunset Trail near Ramsett Park. He tried not to give in to the frustration that often accompanied this all-powerful one-way mental drain-hole. It’s not even like there are thoughts I’m avoiding, he whined to himself. It was just the pure, denser-than-lead nothingness in his skull that rendered it nearly impossible for him to appreciate the beautiful natural features of the trail.

  
As if reading his mind, Leslie reached for his hand. 

  
“Let’s go home, babe.” 

  
He thought of their bed. It had nice pillows, a warm comforter, but more importantly, it didn’t make him grit his teeth in frustration of not being able to appreciate what he knew was beautiful.

  
And at that, he felt guilty at how eagerly he’d responded “Yeah, let’s go.”

One hour later, Ben felt his stomach flutter. It wasn’t the waffles. Or the couples ice skating. Or the nature walk. Or (heaven forbid) the calzones they’d eaten. No. He could sense Leslie holding back a question. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel comfortable talking to her. She was his wife. His number one confidant. And of course, she was Leslie. She would listen to anything with kindness and nothing but his best interests at heart. But at the same time, he’d never really had conversations like these before. He wasn’t sure what to expect. Here we go, he thought to himself. _I am afraid. Don’t know the way. I’m not the man I was._

  
“Now to end our fun filled head-fuzz fighting day! Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. But first-”

  
“I know what you’re gonna ask, Les,” he said while turning to face her on their couch. “Yes, I feel okay.”

She wrapped her arm around him. “I’m so glad you are. But I wanted to talk about earlier. Why won’t you say depression, Ben? It doesn’t have to be such a taboo thing. Screw those jerkwads from Partridge who made you think it was.”

  
She was, of course, referring to the fact that his mom made him see a therapist out of town when he was a kid, so as not to let anyone know that anything was wrong. He shuddered to think of those long Wednesdays out of town. 

  
And for a while, he was sure he had just moved on. 

  
“You don’t have to say depression, you can say…” she trailed off. “Depressive episode.”

  
“Babe, that’s not much better.”

  
“Well whatever you settle on, just don’t be afraid to say it. It’s like in Harry Potter when everyone was scared to say Voldemort, and that just made them even more scared of him.”

  
“It’s not that, Leslie. I just don’t want to jump to conclusions and self-diagnose when I haven’t seen a professional in two decades.”

  
“I understand that. But say you do see a professional, and they do give you the official go-ahead to use that word. Are you gonna be able to handle that? I understand your hesitation, but I feel like there’s more to it than that.”

  
“I mean, I guess you weren’t totally off about the whole Voldemort analogy,” he admitted. “If I really am depressed depressed, then this is a way more serious problem. But if I can just say that I get sad sometimes…”

  
“Then it doesn’t have to be a big thing.”

  
“Yes, exactly! I don’t want this to be a whole thing.” He took a deep breath. _Don’t wanna bother anyone. Just need a voice to say the time is right, my day has come._ “Because then you have the therapy and the meds and just-” he paused.

  
“Just what?”

  
“The weight of having an actual disorder. I don’t think any less of anyone who struggles, of course, it’s just- having an official health condition? A chemical imbalance that could very likely take years to really correct? Even with your binder of suggestions.” He tugged the strings of his pajama pants. “It’s scary, Les.” _Just like a hill you have to climb. Just like the fear you left behind._

  
“I wish I could tell you how you overcome this. All I can say is that no matter what any therapist tells you about what’s going on, I’ll be here for you. No matter how tough it might get, you’re not going through this by yourself. You’ll have me to help you through the worst of it.”

  
“You’re the best wife in the world,” he said while placing his arm around her. “There is some good news, I guess. I settled on Dr. Richard Nygard. He called back. I’m going in a week.”

  
“Wow, so he’s real. It wasn’t just Chris’s reflection.”

  
“Apparently,” he laughed. “Now, let’s watch the movie.” 

  
Leslie watched her husband breathe peacefully against her. Sitting in a deceptive stillness that comforted her. Though she now had a clearer picture of Ben's problems, right at this second, he didn't look like he was fighting anything. He didn't look like he was doing anything more than being the love of her life.

  
He enjoyed Half-Blood Prince as it played in front of them, but his mind was elsewhere. He thought back to his teen years, and how different things were now. I’m on my way. I’m here to stay. I’ll try not to mess it up.

  
Holding Leslie close, he tried to imagine what he would do if he had to hide his problems again. It had been just two weeks of Leslie knowing everything about what he’d been going through, but already he questioned how he was ever able to stomach keeping so much of it to himself.

  
_I need to bother everyone_  
_I’ll find the strength to say my time is right my day has come_  
_There’s so much time to get things wrong_  
_So I’m gonna be_  
_I’m gonna be the lucky one_

  
Ben sighed contentedly as Leslie ran her fingers through his hair. They held each other, sleepy but lucid, long after the credits rolled.

  
_Yeah I’m gonna be_  
_I’m gonna be the lucky one_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please comment if you liked it, and let me know if any of you have ever listened to The Lucky One by Simon Steadman and Charlton Pettus!


End file.
